


Death and the Maiden

by D_Ververs



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Childhood Trauma, F/M, Personification of Death, Slow Build, death took a liking to molly, molly centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-05-28 04:26:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15040694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_Ververs/pseuds/D_Ververs
Summary: The first time Death met Molly Hooper, she was all of 7 years old. Even then she had the guts to challenge him. He was quite taken with the curious little mortal.Follow along with  Death as he accompanies Molly throughout her life and adventures.





	1. Death, be not proud

The first time Death met Molly Hooper, she was 7 years old and sitting under the arm of her ailing mother, tiny and quiet. She was very still there, several books open between and spread out all around the pair. Molly had looked so much like her mother even then, dark hair spilling over her shoulders, face full of sharp angles and curiosity; her clever brown eyes quickly snapped across the pages, eating up every word as her mother’s voice read as many poems and stories she could bear. Death had been silent as he looked upon the scene, invisible to the pair from his perch on the windowsill; he was at most a gentle breeze fluttering the curtain to them, to any mortal.

It would not be long until he would have to depart with Mrs. Hooper in his company. He could allow them these last few minutes, perhaps stretch the seconds for a bit longer... Death didn’t know what compelled him to allow this kind of mercy, it was not in his nature to yield or to spare more time than was necessary. As he mused a multitude of things in the quiet moments, Death felt a gaze fall upon him, something that had not happened to him in very long time. 

Little Molly’s eyes had fallen on him, she did not stare through him as many had often had before her. No, this child’s gaze fell squarely upon him and held a steady inquisitive look, there was no sign of fear within her eyes. What must he look like to her? Surely not the stereotypical black robes and skeleton humanity had envisioned him as; she was far too young to think of such crude and unoriginal visions. Death stared back at her, before giving her a small wave. 

Molly did not smile, merely furrowed her brow before she went back to reading with her mother. Mrs. Hooper’s voice had grown softer, weaker and yet she was still trying for her daughter. 

“One last poem, darling, then I think it’s time for a nap, alright?” Mrs. Hooper seemed to have some trouble catching her breath as she adjusted herself in the bed. Upon noticing Molly’s worried look on her face, the dying woman offered her child a gentle smile and a tighter hug, “I’m alright darling, everything’s alright. Come, let’s read.” 

The worried look didn’t leave Molly’s face, her eyes quickly flicking from her mother’s smiling face to Death. He did not smile, merely gave Molly a nod as he crossed his arms across his chest. Molly’s face relaxed somewhat as she settled again with her mother, 

“Okay, Mummy… Can we read this one?” Molly held up a rather heavy looking book with thin white pages. 

“John Donne? I thought you liked Tennyson, dear,” Mrs. Hooper chuckled a bit before falling into a weak coughing fit. She quickly cleared her throat, trying to distract her daughter… and yet she couldn’t help but feel like her heart was racing out of her chest, like a hummingbird trying to escape into the great wide blue sky. 

“Tennyson wants to be clever, that doesn’t mean he is,” Molly said very matter of factly as she turned the pages delicately, “I like Donne, he’s very smart with words, like you, Mummy.”

Mrs. Hooper gave her daughter a wondering glance, her heart fluttered again as she lamented that she would not see her daughter grow and develop that interesting mind that seemed to even now shine at such a young age, “Alright, my dear, alright...” 

Molly smiled at her mother, “This one, I like the words,” Molly tapped a page gently, trying to hide a small yawn behind her hand. 

“Holy Sonnet 10, a good choice my dear…” Mrs. Hooper cleared her throat and began to read aloud, 

“Death be not proud, though some have called thee  
Mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so,  
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,  
Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.

From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,  
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,  
And soonest our best men with thee do go,  
Rest of their bones, and souls delivery.

Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,  
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,  
And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,  
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then;  
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,  
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.”

“Death, thou shalt die…” Molly murmured reverently, no longer looking at the words on the page. She looked at Death, her pretty eyes full of defiance and Death knew then that Molly Hooper spoke to him directly as she took her mother’s hand in hers. 

Death drew himself to his full height as he stood from his perch. Tall, towering, he raised his chin in equal defiance toward the mortal girl. Despite her obvious insolence, Death gave Molly a lopsided grin. He liked this girl. 

"It's time, Molly Hooper," he said quietly, "Go to sleep now and when you wake, she will be gone. Say your goodbyes and sleep." He wasn't quite sure what to expect of this child, perhaps begging or maybe even crying... She did none of those things. 

Molly took a steadying breath, sat up a little straighter for a moment before she turned to look at her mother. She hugged her mother as tightly as she could, breathing in her scent and trying to memorize the sound of her heartbeat. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she did not let them spill. 

"I love you, Mummy. I love you so much," she mumbled against her mother. 

Mrs. Hooper smoothed her daughter's hair as she got comfortable in the bed once more, "And I love you, Molly. Forever and always, my darling girl." she said softly, exhaustion lacing her every breath. She still offered her daughter a soft smile, and Molly stared at her face for the longest time, trying to memorize every detail of her beautiful face. 

"Let's go to sleep now, my darling."


	2. A Golden Web

People often wondered how and why Molly Hooper would ever go into the field she did. Why would such a bright, lovely girl like her ever decide to surround herself in all of this dark and hush of Death? What did that speak of her? 

She was currently sitting at a microscope, trying to focus on some tissue samples of a recently deceased patient. One hand worked slowly and carefully, turning knobs and redirecting pointers while her other scribbled furiously over a notebook; Shape, damage, anomaly, reactivity, it all went down in her notes in her personal shorthand. Images were scattered around her as well as several reference books on disease processes, several samples were arranged around the room in incubators and under hoods. She was rather engrossed with her work to look up when a new visitor entered her lab. 

Granted, Death hardly ever made a sound when he came around. He knew better than to call out to her in the middle of her work. He chose to lean against a nearby counter, his face expressionless as he observed her while she tried to solve his latest puzzle. This one would be fun, more of a challenge than usual... but she was good, she hadn't failed him yet. He doubted that she ever would. His golden eyes were trained on every one of her moves, all of them disciplined and precise. 

"You could say hello at least," Molly said without looking away from her work, "This one is interesting." She'd never seen tissue growth like this outside of textbook and lecture... It was fascinating to see it in person.

"I'm glad you think so, took me a while to think of it... it isn't used very often." He didn't move from his place, merely grinned a bit at her, "I thought I was careful not to disturb you." 

"The ambient temperature drops by about 2 degrees for a second when you enter a room, it causes a shiver in people," she tapped her pen a couple of times on her notebook, eyebrows knitting together for a moment as she found another bit of the puzzle, "Excessive goblet cell formation, interesting, which in turn leads to fibrosis."

"Fairly interesting, yes." He tilted his head to the side for a moment toward the door, a look of annoyance crossing his face, "Justice's curly-haired walking spoiler is on his way in," Death returned his gaze to Molly, "He seems rather excited about something, by the sounds of it."

"His name is Sherlock, you know that." Molly finally looked up to admonish Death with the same defiant look she had when she was a child... 

Death rolled his eyes, "He's a self-important prick, who distracts you from your work to help him with his. I don't like it, it's cheating." 

"Oh don't be ridiculous, we're all training," Molly started cleaning up her things, "There's no reason why we can't help each other out." She'd hate to admit it out loud, but Sherlock did have a way of taking over space when he was interested in one of his own puzzles. She began to set out some of the materials he would probably need: his favorite stains and a fresh box of slide covers were neatly organized beside his favorite microscope. 

"Why Love decided to tangle you with him, I'll never know." Death muttered under his breath as he noted the quiet doting Molly was displaying now. Quite suddenly, the doors to the lab had crashed open and Sherlock could be heard calling out for Molly.

"And here he is, what boring drivel does he have now?" He knew Sherlock couldn't see him or hear him for that matter, that's how the game worked... No champion could peer onto another's mentor. Kept things fair somehow. 

Sherlock was a bit more hapless in his entry than Death, louder and far more dramatic as he threw his Belstaff onto a nearby table. He still walked with purpose and straight to the recently vacated microscope. He quickly found the samples he had left earlier, he knew they would be well taken care of. Molly may be a bit mousey, but she knew how to keep an impeccable lab.

Unimpressed, Death gave Molly a look with a raised eyebrow...which she quickly ignored as she went about getting her notes together and finding Sherlock's, "You're back so soon, have you found another interesting case?"

Before he could hear Sherlock's reply, Death heaved a dramatic sigh before he disappeared from the lab and into his own domain. It looked like an office, all of the surfaces pitch black and polished, it all looked very elegant in a way. One wall was covered with a few hundred shelves that held hourglasses, while another wall held a black and gold tapestry depicting a spider's web that seemed to be constantly changing shape and complexity. 

"Justice!!" He called out as he started pacing his office, "I know you can hear me, get over here now!" he was quite frustrated at the moment.

After a pause, a young woman appeared in the office. Her golden hair was neatly plaited, nearly reaching the floor. Her delicate face was pointed in his general direction. Her milky white eyes stood out brightly against her dark skin, "Yes?" Most of his colleagues avoided him, were even fearful of him but Justice spoke with a steady voice, almost cheerful. 

Death knew her well...

"That boy of yours, can you not rein him in? An erratic jumping all over the place, interfering with my prospective's training. Half the time I find him at the foot of everything I set out for her, trying to solve it faster than she can! And when he can't solve your tasks, he's after Molly to help him. She'd be farther along in her training if it weren't for him!" 

Justice smiled as she walked forward carefully, "He's yours too, you know, that whole family is. And she is mine as well, you know that too." Death glared at her, "Don't look at me like that, you know I'm right." She laughed as she took a seat in one of his chairs. 

"That doesn't mean they have to interfere with each other!" Death snapped at her as he walked over to the tapestry. He quickly picked out Molly's thread in the web of life and found it snarled in a knot with Sherlock Holmes's thread. Even if he could mess with the threads of fate, there was no way for him to separate the two without causing irreparable damage. 

His pale fingers hovered over the knot as he fought the urge to pluck at the thread...

"You know that isn't my doing." Justice's voice had become serious, the cheerful lilt disappearing, "Nor is it our place to interfere with what Love has designed."

Death pulled his hand back, Justice's words bringing him back to his present. He sighed and flung himself into the chair at his desk, "There will be so much pain for the both of them."

"I know..." Justice answered softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update! I hope you guys like this chapter, it's a bit of a setup, but I hope you guys stick around for the next one. Merry Christmas and Happy Winter Solstice!

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where exactly this story came from, but it wouldn't leave me alone until I penned at least this first bit. As you can tell, this is going to be a rather long set up for Sherlock and Molly; I'm not entirely sure if this will be a continuing series, but at the very least I have this little bit done. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading this far! Comments and kudos are always appreciated but never demanded. 
> 
> -Dot


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